Graveyard of Lost Souls
Why did she appear to
me in the early morning light
staring from a distance with her
reflection looking back at her?
I saw her through my looking glass,
a floating spirit restless as
the night with grey shadows
of reflective sorrows and pain,
her sad expressions so deep,
her eyes black as night.
In a flowing gown of white,
she appeared like a broken
timepiece, stuck at midnight.
Was she a lost child of the past?
speaking to me through closed lips,
wanting to reach me somehow,
and feel my eyes looking back
at her and be not fearful.
But to understand who she was
someone who once lived amongst
the living filled with dreams and
hopes and promises of loves
Now she lingers for a while in solitude
along the road of loneliness and despair
reaching out in some small way for
someone to stop awhile and not be
frightened of her presence there, but
instead look back and touch her lost
soul and light a little flame of hope for
her to return to the resting place in that
private place of darkness and mold
amongst the dead who walk forever in
the mist and graveyards of lost souls.
© Copyright Vincent Moore. All Rights Reserved.